


One More Call (And Then You'll Come Back...)

by doujinbag



Category: Ouran Highschool Host Club
Genre: Angst, I'm so sorry, M/M, Sad, Ugh, drunk, terribly written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2653310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doujinbag/pseuds/doujinbag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyoya can't get over losing Tamaki. He calls him over and over again in the midst of being drunk, only to realize his mistake in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Call (And Then You'll Come Back...)

**Author's Note:**

> I already know this is terribly written, I'm so sorry. I just had an idea and sorta went with it. I'm also super drained so I'll probably rewrite this one day lmao but today is not that day

“Tamaki? Are… are you there? Just… I want you to call me. P-please. I… I miss you. Call me. Please.”

By now, Tamaki’s voicemail was flooded with messages from Kyoya in his drunken stupor. Of course, it wasn’t as if he would ever be able to listen to them; his number had been disconnected months beforehand.

But Kyoya tried again. And again. And again. Forgetting each time that he’d already called multiple times before- being drunk did _horrible_ things to the poor raven-haired boy’s mind- and each message sounding more slurred and messy.

“Tamaki… please, I’m sorry, I was an a- _hic!-_ asshole… please, just- just call me ba- _hic!-_ ack.”

By the end of the night, Kyoya’s phone ran out of battery power, and he had to be taken out of the bar with Hikaru and Kaoru’s arms around him, keeping him from falling down. Even with as many shots as they’d taken, they still weren’t as drunk as Kyoya. They sent him in a cab back to his house, knowing he’d have a killer hangover the next morning. He managed to stumble into his apartment, just barely making it there, and immediately crashed on his couch, his head already pounding.

In the morning, Kyoya felt absolutely sick to his stomach. He made a run for his bathroom, promptly throwing up in the toilet as he felt a strong migraine coming on. “Fucking hell,” he mumbled before vomiting miserably yet again. He hated getting drunk. While it made him forget everything he didn’t want to remember, there was probably nothing in the world that he hated more than having a hangover.

Well, of course, except for the lack of Tamaki in his life now.

He flushed the toilet and brushed his teeth, using nearly half the bottle of mouthwash to get the ill taste out of his mouth. He took a few Aspirin and curled up on his bed, already regretting any messages he might have tried to send Tamaki that he knew he wouldn’t remember.

He looked at the call log on his phone and groaned. Seventeen calls to Tamaki, none of them answered. Fourteen text messages, none of them replied to. Fifteen voicemails, none of them listened to. It wasn’t as if he expected Tamaki to; he was long gone, their relationship over since February.

But Kyoya couldn’t move on from that icy February day. He was still stuck in the thought of Tamaki’s voice saying, “If you feel that way, then fine. I’ll leave.” His body still shivered occasionally at the winter cold that wasn’t actually there. He still saw that blond head of hair in front of him here and there, although Tamaki was never really around. Tamaki left and he wasn’t coming back.

He glanced at the calendar on his wall- June 17, it read- and bit his lip. It’d been exactly four months since their relationship came to an unwanted close. Choking back silent tears, he grabbed his keys and ignored his aching head and churning stomach. Silently, he got into his car, and he began to drive.

His trip wasn’t long, but it certainly filled him with remorseful nostalgia. He passed the café, where they spent most of their dates at; the library, where they’d had their messy first meet; and the bar, where they’d had their last fight-

 _No._ Kyoya blocked that last part out. He didn’t want to remember their fight; he didn’t want to remember the tears in Tamaki’s dark eyes or the way his voice quivered on the word “ _fine”…_

He didn’t want to remember any of it and he wouldn’t let himself do so.

Finally, he arrived at his destination. He knew Tamaki would at least listen to him when he came here, even if he never got a response. It sure beat leaving messages on a voicemail that would never be heard.

As he walked up the hill, he felt that icy winter chill on his spine again and something light and airy touch his hand in the same way Tamaki used to. He began walking slower as he reached the top of the grassy hill, holding his breath. He walked with an agonizing pace as he finally reached a small stone on the ground, one put there not long after their fight. Engraved in it were words that only Kyoya had memorized by now.

_Tamaki Suoh.  
April 8 1993 – February 17 2014._

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://spookymileskane.tumblr.com) / [instagram](http://instagr.am/and.a.smile)


End file.
